they were bigger; and at last Polly drew a long breath and wound up
with a flourish, "And that's all"

"Tell another," said one of the round-eyed, open-mouthed children,
without moving a muscle. All the rest sat perfectly still.

"O dear me," said Polly, with a little laugh, "that was such a good
long one, you can't want another."

"I think you've gotten yourself into business, Polly," said Jasper,
with a laugh. "Hadn't we better go?"

Polly gave a quick glance at Phronsie. "Phronsie dear," she said, "let
us go up to our deck now, dear. Shall we?"

"Oh, no, Polly, please don't go yet," begged Phronsie, in alarm, and
patting the baby softly with a gentle little hand. Polly looked off at
Grandpapa. He was placidly surveying the water, his eyes occasionally
roving over the novel and interesting sights around. On the other side
of the deck a returning immigrant was bringing out a jew's-harp, and
two or three of his fellow-passengers were preparing to pitch quoits.
Old Mr. King was actually smiling at it all. Polly hadn't seen him so
contented since they sailed.

"I guess I'll tell another one, Jasper," she said. "Oh, about a dog,
you wanted, did you?" nodding at the biggest boy.

"Yes," said the boy, bobbing his tow head, "I did;" and he unfolded and
folded his hands back again, then waited patiently.